


won't bite

by mystoxxide



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Accidentally Fucking Up Your Ankle While Running Away Scared For Your Life(tm), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Based on a dream I had, Eventual Smut, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Modern AU, fuck joseph drew, grant is vampire daddy, joey fucking dies, joey is a minor character now because i fucking say so fuck joey man, minor gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystoxxide/pseuds/mystoxxide
Summary: shawn just wanted some fucking beer.shant, human/vampire au
Relationships: Grant Cohen/Shawn Flynn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	won't bite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PolaroidAndPastelFreak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolaroidAndPastelFreak/gifts).



> sup
> 
> this is uhhhh a fic that i wrote and uh. that's it
> 
> i think i might make a wp version if it helps ppl who don't like reading on ao3
> 
> !! this fic has no set update time! i could go silent for a couple of months and then update four times in a week! i'm using this fic as a vent outlet for what i am going through in real life! i am aware some parts of it may be bad or unrealistic! i do not take constructive criticism! don't like, don't read! yes, grant tops! write more dom!grant please batim fandom! yes, there will be eventual smut! yes, it is named after the doja cat song! !!
> 
> okay, that's all, thank you. if you're still here, enjoy! <3

Shawn gasped, feeling his chest burn. Foliage crunched under his feet as he scrambled through the dark forest, the moon’s light a bare sliver through the trees.

He’d just wanted some beer.

He’d just wanted some  _ fucking beer. _

_ ‘Free drinks,’  _ Joey had said, slinging an arm around his shoulders.  _ ‘The place’s a bit creepy, but free drinks!’ _

It  _ had _ all been fine and dandy, to a point. Sure, it was weird to hold a supposed “birthday party” in a 1940s-era amalgamation of a castle and mansion, but Shawn had never believed in the paranormal, or the occult, or the whatever.

That had changed when Joey had been pinned down by around six partygoers, who had immediately exposed razor sharp, snow white canines, and stabbed them into various parts of his neck, one at least tearing open his jugular. 

There was blood on the floor.

There was blood on Shawn.

All coming from Joey.

He hadn’t even had time to scream before he dropped his drink and ran. Sure, Joey hadn’t been the greatest friend, or his best, but he was a  _ friend.  _ He had told him when and where there was free alcohol, for fuck’s sake!

And now he was dead.

Amidst his panic, something caught Shawn’s foot, and he was flung forward. There was a painful twisting feeling, numbness rushing from the spot, and the air was knocked out of his lungs when he connected with the ground. His vision was blurry. His whole leg was fuzzy. He let out a low moan, inching forward, partially regurgitating bile that spilled down his chin messily. 

He laid there for a moment, terrified, hurting and alone, before grimacing, spitting and hauling himself up. He had to keep going, dear god, fuck, he didn’t know if any of them had followed him--

The trees above him rustled. Something landed beside him with a loud thump, making Shawn’s terror flare. He was turned over, groaning and whimpering as what felt like trails of crushed ice slithered down his chest. “You left the party early, darling,” A soft voice said, leaning close enough for chilling breath to brush his ear. He tensed when something cold nosed at his neck, inhaling sharply and painfully when needle-like fangs scraped his skin. “My eyes were on you since you walked in, it would be such a shame for you to leave so early into the festivities~” He was being lifted, held in thin, delicate hands, chin tilted so he could be examined more easily. His hazy vision finally focused on a pale face. Cold blue eyes. A sharp chin. Deep raven hair. “And it would  _ certainly  _ be such a waste of such a pretty face to look at~”

Shawn whimpered pitifully, trying to wriggle out of the cold grip. The deep sapphire eyes roamed his body, and a frown formed on his captor’s snow-white face when he noticed his ankle. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve hurt yourself.” He pouted, a fang catching his lip. The smaller man averted his eyes, frozen and trembling. He was picked up, causing him to cry out and wrap his arms around the taller’s neck.

It was a long way to the ground. Shawn swallowed nervously, then looked up at the pale face that gazed at him softly, sympathetic, presumably taking in all his features. “Don’t worry, dove. I’ll take care of you.” 

He began to protest, but was shushed, a long pale finger pressed against his lips. 

“You’re going to be just fine.”

-

The shower’s hot water stung Shawn’s skin, but he was grateful for the warmth. It had been forever since he’d had a warm shower or bath, and the night had been especially cold for mid spring. He didn’t even care that he’d been forcefully stripped of his clothes, or the ocean eyes dutifully fixed on his face, not daring to roam as a rag scrubbed across his chest. 

He was allowed to wash himself below the waist, which made him grateful to some degree. His thigh had been propped on the edge of the pristine porcelain bathtub, ankle carefully treated with salve to battle inflammation, before being carefully bandaged (and, somewhat regrettably, laid with soft kisses). 

Next came the clothes. They were all fairly revealing, and made of soft, almost transparent silk, but Shawn wasn’t one to refuse under such circumstances. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he would, and he didn’t want to find out. So he chose the least… exhibiting and went on his way.

Shawn still didn’t know his ‘host’s name, so he figured he may as well ask. What he got in return was a small smile, a chuckle of “Oh, how silly of me,” and the introduction of Grantaire.

Grantaire was something else entirely. From the easy glances that quickly became hungry stares, to the gentle kisses he would place along Shawn’s skin whenever he seemed to feel like it. 

Soon, it became apparent that not much time had passed. It was only nine thirty. So his host offered that Shawn come back to the celebration with him.

Again, Shawn didn’t want to refuse and potentially upset whatever Graintaire’s guests, and presumably, he, was. So again, he accepted.

The smile that appeared on Grantaire’s face was soft and gentle. “Lovely.” He purred, leaning in close to his neck and inhaling. Shawn tensed, the feeling of impending doom growing stronger in his stomach. This was creepy. This was weird. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Maybe he--

Grantaire pulled away, and Shawn could’ve sworn he saw scarlet flare in his eyes. But it didn’t matter, because he was already being led to the ballroom.

**Author's Note:**

> grant: absolutely smitten  
> shawn: bite me daddy


End file.
